Moving On
by gleeme33
Summary: Multi-chapter. Wendla didn't die, she escaped. After losing everything, she goes to a small town in America to move on, making up a new name in order to start a new life. Her name isn't Wendla Bergmann anymore...it's Rachel Berry. *on hold for now*
1. Prolog

**Because I loved writing Exchange Students Make Everything Better so much, here's another Glee/SA x-cover. **_**Post**_**-musical and pre-Glee this time. I know, that seems confusing, but just read this chapter and you'll get it. Thanks and enjoy.**

_Prolog_

_My Dearest Miss Wendla,_

_ I have now seen, Wendla, how this contemptible bourgeois society works – how everything we touch turns to dirt. In the end, we have only each other – we must build a different world. Despite what those whispering elders may say, I must be near you – next to you. I must set my head against yours. We must let ourselves breath and move again, together, in that paradox of Paradise…_

_Forever Yours,_

_Melchior Gabor_

Wendla looked up from the crinkled letter, fighting back tears. They had come so far together, her and Melchior. They thought they'd always be together…that they'd build a new, better world together, with each other. But now, she had lost so much. Too much. She had lost Moritz, her baby, and almost her own life. She ran away – she escaped and made it out of the dark man's dark place…but her baby didn't make it, and she wanted to die because of it.

According to everyone in the town – including Melchi – she _was _dead. She made it out and ran, but everyone thought she was dead. She could never go back there. She could never go back to the place she called home, the place she buried Moritz and her baby. She could never go back to Melchior. He thought she was dead. Wendla hugged the letter. It was the last piece of Melchior she'd ever have. That was all she had – the letter, and a blurry picture of them with Moritz and Ilse.

That was another thing – she would never get to see Ilse, Anna, Martha or Thea ever again. Her friends, her family…they all thought she'd died. Well, at least they all knew her mother was to blame for what happened to her perfect little baby…and what they think happened to her. That gave Wendla the tiniest bit of satisfaction…at least her mother got what was coming to her. So now, her she was. In the Berlin Airport, ready to hop a flight to that place Melchi always told her about…America.

Thanks to that one time Ernst mentioned that nice gay couple who wanted to adopt, she had a place to go. She had a place to stay, for now, but it'd never be home. It'd never be Germany. Plus, she'd have to _completely _start over…a new name, a new identity…a new everything. Her life as Wendla Bergmann would just become a hazy memory. She would never hear the name 'Melchior Gabor' ever again. She'd have to learn a whole new language and make up a story that would become her life…

"Flight 123456, non-stop from Berlin to Ohio now boarding," said the man over the P-A system.

Wendla sighed. She got up and shook her head, whipped her face of all her tears. This was it. _Goodbye, Germany, _Wendla thought. _Goodbye Mama, Goodbye Ilse, Goodbye Anna, Martha and Thea…_ She cried one last tear. _Goodbye, Melchior. Goodbye forever._

"Please, Moritz," she prayed out loud to her deceased friend. "Please let this be the right choice. Please help me to move on. Please, Moritz, guide my choices, old friend. Give me strength to go on."

And she got on the airplane and she never looked back.

**Review?**


	2. Wendla Bergmann Is Dead

**Really? No reviews at all? :( Oh well. This takes place the summer before the Pilot episode of Glee. Thanks and enjoy.**

_Chapter One_

Wendla didn't speak a word of English, so, naturally, she had no idea what anyone or anything around her was saying until she realized that maybe she should look into _Rosetta Stone _or something like that. Thank goodness she had that summer to learn…that summer, when, she spoke to no one. Even her new dads – who she loved very much – didn't know her real past. She told them what she told everyone – she was a German girl who just happened to have to move to America.

No specifics.

No details.

No story.

She didn't think school would be easy; actually, as a matter of fact, it defiantly would be a challenge for her. Wendla had never gone to a real school before, mostly because where she grew up only the boys went to a bureaucrat school building with teachers and books and all that. The only reason that she knew how to read and write was because Melchior had taught her. _Melchior_…_no_, _no_… She thought. _I have to forget about him. I have to send him out of my mind for good. He's gone now_…_I'm gone now! As far as he's concerned, I'm dead._ Wendla shook her head. _I'm dead and gone. _

_Wendla Bergmann is dead and gone... _

_I'm _not_ Wendla Bergmann anymore!_

It was that very day in the middle of hot July when she decided to make a new name for herself. _Literally. _She was not Wendla Bergmann anymore.

She was _not _Wendla Bergmann anymore…

She was Rachel Berry now.

**xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

By this time now, it was the last day of summer. School, so it seemed, would be in session by this time tomorrow. Wendla sighed, looking out of her bedroom window. There were no stars out now, but Wendla would have sworn that they were out and shinning not but ten minutes ago, and the moon shone hardly a sliver of light.

"Ten minutes ago, you could see the entire horizon. Now, only the dusk – the first few stars…" she sighed again, quoting her old friend Moritz. "So dark. So dark. So dark…"

She paced back and forth, as she usually did when something was on her mind. That's something that she and Moritz had in common…when he was still alive. As she went to sit down on her bed, Wendla felt a tear crawl down her cheek as she remembered Moritz's funeral…how upset everyone was. She wondered then, if the town thought she was dead…did they give her a funeral? And what would happen when there was no body to be found? Would anyone look for her – believe in his or her heart that she was still on this earth, and not up in Heaven with Moritz and her unborn child? She could only think of two people who would be kind enough, brave enough, and determined enough to actually look for her…Ilse and Melchior. What if, by some weird twist of fate…her childhood best friend or her debonair lover found her here – _alive_?

_No_. Wendla shook her head. _No. To them, I'm dead. Wendla Bergmann is dead!_ As she got into bed and flicked off her light, she sighed for a third time. _Wendla Bergmann is dead. Wendla Bergmann is _dead. She repeated in her head, hoping that if she told it to herself enough, it would indeed become a fact.

The town _would _give her a funeral, she decided, picturing it in her mind, as she grew sleepier and sleepier. Her mother would stand on one side of the gravestone with her name sketched into the epitaph, Melchior at the other. One by one, everyone would drop a flower at her grave, just as she and the others did with Moritz. First, Anna, Thea and Martha would drop their lilacs. They were always so good to Wendla…such good, good friends. Next, Georg, Hanschen, Ernst, and Otto would come to the grave. No doubt, Ernst would be in tears. Georg would stutter out some theory about the stars and Heaven, and maybe, if she were lucky, even Hanschen would shed a tear or two. Then, Ilse would drop her flower at the sad little grave. Wendla remembered seeing Ilse at Moritz's funeral…Ilse was the saddest one present, as if she had offered the now deceased, bushy-hair boy _hope_, bright and beautiful on a silver platter…and he pushed it away.

A ghost of a smile appeared across Wendla's lips as she thought of how Ilse would react towards her mother when she found out why Wendla was 'dead' in the first place. Knowing Ilse, she'd probably spit at her, or yell words that Wendla was always taught never to say aloud at her, or…even better, give her mother that silent treatment and dirty look that only Ilse can pay off perfectly.

Lastly, of course, Melchior…

Wendla tried to stop herself from thinking about him at all. A few lone minutes ticked and tocked by, and Wendla realized that maybe, just maybe, if she thought about Melchior grieving for her, maybe she could finally grieve for him too.

As everyone but Ilse and Frau Bergmann left the cemetery, Melchior would turn towards the grave of his would-be wife. They were supposed to escape here, to a better world; get married and build…build that better world with their child. But now, everything was ruined. Wendla – as far as Melchior was concerned, anyway – was dead. Their baby…their _baby_…_their _baby… They were supposed to escape. They were supposed to make it out…together, as a family. He'd never get to hold his baby. And now, his lover and his unborn child were dead. Melchior lay on top of the grave, and cried.

…

There was only light.

"Wendla?"

"Moritz?"

Wendla turned to see her old friend, standing there, beside her. She hadn't seen him since…since before he was dead, anyway. He looked…_happy_. In his arms, though, was a beautiful baby girl.

"She looks just like you," Moritz said. "Only, she has Melchior's eyes."

Wendla couldn't find words.

"Do you…do you want to…hold her?"

Wendla could only nod.

She never thought she'd be able to hold her baby girl in her arms.

"Don't worry, Wendla," Moritz whispered. "I'll take care of her until you and Melchior join us here. She – she just needs a name." When Wendla didn't answer, Moritz said: "I was thinking Rachel Wendla Gabor."

"That's a beautiful name. She's a beautiful girl. She's _my _beautiful girl."

And, wordlessly, Wendla wished she could express the overwhelming feeling of love she had for her baby girl. But actions speak louder then words.

"How is he?" Wendla finally asked.

"He's grieving," Moritz answered curtly. "But he'll be okay. Time heals all wounds."

"No, Moritz," Wendla whispered, looking down again at her baby girl. "Not _all _wounds."

"I'll always help guide you, Wendla," Moritz whispered, matching her tone. "Or, um, should I say…_Rachel_."

With that, Rachel Berry woke up to the sound of her alarm clock.


	3. First Day Of School

**Sorry this took so long for me to do – I've been working on an original piece, and it's kind of all I can work on. Sorry. :) But here's chapter two, I hope you like it, it's short because a – where I live it's after midnight right now and I'm tired, and b – my brain is clogged from my original piece. :) Thanks and enjoy.**

_Chapter Two_

Rachel Berry was _not _Wendla Bergmann.

Rachel Berry was independent. Rachel Berry was outgoing. Rachel Berry was always in the spotlight. Rachel Berry was strong. Rachel Berry was _fearless_…

So _why _was Wendla so nervous?

"Hey," called a voice. Wendla looked around the main office. It was the assistant behind the desk who called for her. The woman's nameplate read _Mrs. Bauer_, and Wendla smiled at the woman's last name. _Bauer _was German for _farmer_, _peasant_, or _beggar_. "Are you waiting for Principle Figgions?"

"Uh – " Wendla's mouth opened, but all she could do was stutter. _Stop it! _She told herself. _This isn't who you are anymore!_ "Yes, Mrs. Bauer," she said, adjusting her voice, holding her head a little higher. "It's protocol here, I suppose…I'm new here!" _As if she didn't already know that! Say something else! _"I'm Rachel!"

"Well, _Rachel_," Mrs. Bauer almost chuckled. "Welcome to McKinley High. Principle Figgions will be with you in a moment."

"Okay, thanks, I – "

But Wendla was interrupted by banging, seemingly coming from the Principle's office. A woman in a bright-red tracksuit with short blonde hair came storming out of the office.

"Sue!" Figgions yelled from the doorframe of his office. "This is _insanity_!" Wendla raised an eyebrow as 'Sue' stormed off. Figgions shook his head and disappeared into his office, slamming the little door behind him, his actions indicating his anger. Mrs. Bauer nodded towards Wendla, then towards the door.

"Principle Figgions?" she asked, knocking on the now slammed-shut door. It cracked open. "Hi," she smiled at him, seeing he was upset. "I'm Rachel Berry. I'm new here and I…"

"Yes, Rachel," he said in his heavy accent. "I have your file right here…" he pulled out a manila folder with _Berry, Rachel _on the tab. "This should give you everything you need to get along for the day. There's a map, your locker combination, everything." He handed the file to her.

"Thank you, Principle Figgions," she said, walking out of the office.

"Welcome to McKinley!"

As she followed the tiny, black-and-white print map, Wendla was relatively proud of herself that she was able to navigate so well – everything was written in her second language here. She had walked down the hall, turned right, made two lefts and another right down another three halls, and now she was facing her locker, just as the map had said.

"3…17…25…11…" she mumbled her locker combination, considering writing it down on her hand as she twisted the tiny lock carefully.

"And who are you?" Wendla shot up at the sound of the boy's soft voice, startled. "Hey, I won't bite!" He smiled at Wendla, and she liked it. It felt…genuine. Real. "I'm Kurt Hummel," he said, extending a hand.

"I'm W – I-I'm _Rachel_!" _Smooth_, she thought sarcastically as she shook the well-dressed boy's hand. _Really smooth, Wendla…_

"Hey, Tina!" 'Kurt' called to a smaller Asian girl who walked by. "This is Rachel. She's new here."

"Oh hi!" she said. "I'm T-T-T-Tina!" The goth-looking girl stuttered. "H-have you th-thought about joining g-g-glee club?"

"Glee club?" Wendla asked. "What's that?" Kurt handed her a flyer.

"You should join," he said. "We only have four members right now, and well, we're going no where. Could you stay after school until four? You could audition…if you wanted…"

_I'd never have the confidence to…but Rachel Berry sure would…_

"I'd love to."

**Next chapter = Wendla/Rachel's audition and meeting everyone! **

**Review!**


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